Full Force Fatherhood (12 page)

Chapter Sixteen

Afternoon quickly turned into night, and the humor the small group had been enjoying quickly disappeared. It was getting time to put their plan in motion, even if not all of them thought it was a good plan to start.

“This concern comes from a place of love,” Lynn said from the edge of the bed. She had made a clothes run and had now changed out of her Pretty Princess attire and into a pair of jeans and a white-and-yellow blouse that contrasted beautifully with her dark complexion. Her half of the best-friend necklace Kelli had bought them when they were in high school hung around her neck in plain view. Occasionally they would don them when they were nervous about something involving one another. The last time Kelli had worn hers was when Lynn had a job interview. The last time Lynn had worn hers was when Kelli had gone into the hospital to be induced for labor. In a way it was like a good-luck charm.

“If you weren't concerned,
I'd
be concerned,” Kelli said. “But we need to stop Dennis. I don't trust him, Lynn.”

The other woman sighed and nodded. “Yeah, yeah, I just...” She pursed her lips, seemingly choosing her words carefully. “Remember when you asked me to be Grace's godmother?”

Kelli laughed. “Of course. You baked a cake for us to celebrate.”

“Exactly! I was so excited—so honored—to get the title that I didn't really think about what it meant until today. After you told me what was going on.” Kelli tilted her head in question. “If something happens to you, God forbid, I'll raise that kiddo so well, you would be proud. That's a promise I made, but it's not one I
want
to fulfill.” Her eyes started to mist as she continued. “You and Grace are my little family, and if something happens to you—”

Kelli closed the space between them, enveloping her friend in a warm embrace. Lynn wasn't a woman to cry easily. She didn't look down on the emotional, but she wasn't typically gushing about her own feelings. To see her almost cry—to hear her sniffling back tears— almost brought Kelli to her own.

“He might come after Grace, Lynn,” Kelli said. “I won't sit around and wait to see. I have to do this, but I need you in my corner. I need your good vibes.”

“Then let me come with you two,” she said, pulling back to look Kelli in the eye. “I have that obnoxious orange dress back at home that I could wear!” But then Lynn stopped herself. “Grace,” was all she said.

“I trust Jonathan and Nikki, but Grace trusts you. I need you here and so does she.”

Lynn hung her head a fraction and sighed again. “I guess I should start up with those good vibes, then.”

Kelli clapped, and just like that they were on the same page.

“That's the spirit,” Kelli exclaimed. “Now, let's start with this dress, or was it a mistake to put this thing on?”

Kelli went to stand in front of the closet door. The full-length mirror showed her a reflection she wasn't used to seeing.

Her hair hung in loose curls, framing a face with impeccable dark eyeliner and red, red lips—thanks to Lynn, despite her concern—and coupled with long, skinny silver earrings. Though how could anyone focus on her face when she was wearing the dress?

Constantly getting dolled up and stretching her socialite muscles might not have been Kelli's forte, but she couldn't deny her appreciation for the dress wrapped around her. Navy blue silk slid across her body, starting out strong with a breathtaking deep-V back and ending with a small but elegant train. It also dipped into a much more modest V at her chest, showing limited yet undeniable cleavage. The sleeves were short and cupped the top of her shoulders while the rest of the dress hugged her body, forcing her to rethink her undergarments when she'd first put it on. Her shoes—which couldn't be seen beneath the rich fabric—in no way compared. They were fifteen-dollar black pumps that had more than one spot where a marker had come into play.

“Is it too much? Or am I underdressed?” Kelli asked, recalling the picture of the women from the past year's dinner.

“It's just beautiful,” Lynn answered. “You're going to make it really hard for Mark to concentrate.”

Kelli turned at the humor in her voice. Lynn smirked. “Don't think I've missed this—” she waved her hand in the air at Kelli “—getting all weird when he's mentioned or in the room.”

“Weird?”

“It's a good weird. I just haven't mentioned it yet because I wanted
you
to bring it up, but—since you didn't and you're about to go talk to a psycho while wearing a ball gown—I'll go ahead and tell you that I think it's time you grabbed some happiness of the intimate kind.” Lynn's smirk transformed into a caring smile. “I approve of this Mark character. He's a good guy, you know. But that doesn't mean we aren't going to talk more about this when it's all over.”

If it had been anyone else, Kelli might have blushed. However, it was Lynn, so she just laughed. Of course the other woman had picked up on the change between her and the bodyguard.

“Deal.”

“Good! Now let's go showcase this elegant-as-all-get-out dress!”

Kelli gave herself one more look in the mirror. The dress truly made her feel beautiful, but beauty wasn't the goal for tonight. Getting a man to admit to his sins was their true endgame.

Instead of Lynn letting Kelli simply walk out into the living room where Mark and Grace were, she decided to announce it.

“Lady and gentleman, may I present to you Pretty Princess Kelli!”

Mark stood from the spot where he'd been playing blocks with Grace and not so subtly looked her up and down.

“You're beautiful,” he said, face openly appreciative. Heat swarmed up and filled her cheeks.

“You're not too bad yourself.” She motioned to his outfit. Like earlier that morning, he was the perfect picture of sexy in the classic tux.

“Sure beats your flannel,” Lynn said.

“Har, har.” Then, like flipping a switch, his mood did a complete one-eighty. “Jonathan went ahead to find a good spot to wait and watch,” Mark said, brows drawn in focus. “Nikki is on her way up. All we need to do now is put this on and head that way ourselves.” He scooped up the recorder and looked her up and down again. She could have sworn she saw him turn a bit red.

“I'm pretty sure that thing won't be able to fit in there or stay,” Lynn commented.

“We still need it on you just in case Dennis decides he'll only talk to you when I'm not right beside you.”

“She's right,” Kelli agreed. “
I
barely got in this thing.”

A knock at the door paused whatever Mark was about to say. He checked the peephole—twice—before opening the door to let Nikki in. She looked between the two of them and whistled.

“Well, don't you two look nice?”

“Thanks, but we've apparently hit a snag. There's not a good place to hide this.” Kelli pointed to the recorder. “I guess I could always put it in my clutch but, depending where I set it during dinner, that might look suspicious.”

Nikki held up her hand. “I think I have a fix for that.” She walked over to the kitchen counter and set down the bag she'd been carrying. The three of them huddled around her.

“Orion is all about using nonlethal methods to ensure client safety, because we believe our agents can handle any type of fight,” she said, sounding rehearsed. “Our agents are well trained and experienced so the clients don't ever have to make contact with their aggressors. However, sometimes exceptions can be made.” She pulled out what looked like an older cell phone and looked at Kelli. “It's a stun gun,” she said. “On the off chance you need—or feel like you might need—some help. It looks somewhat like a phone, so it will blend.”

“Somewhat?” Kelli shared a matching look of surprise with Lynn. “If you hadn't told me, I would have tried to make a call on it!”

Nikki laughed. “Don't worry. I would have stopped you.”

Mark cracked a smile. “I would have, too, if it's any consolation,” he said.

“And I appreciate that, but what does a stun gun have to do with hiding the recorder?”

Nikki held up another item from the bag. Black cloth and elastic made up a two-inch circle with a small slit in the middle.

“Is that a garter?” she asked.

“Of sorts.” Nikki took the stun gun back and slid it into the slit so it wouldn't fall out. She took the recorder and put it into a small pocket on the back Kelli hadn't seen before. “These are popular with women who want to carry their phones or cash without having to take their purses around. We're just tweaking that idea with stun guns and recording devices.” She handed the garter to Kelli. “Now to try it on.”

* * *

“I
FEEL
LIKE
A
SPY
.
”

Kelli patted her silk dress above her right thigh. The light from the city filtered through the Jeep's windows and showed a slight bump beneath her hand.

“Just make sure when we sit down to put a napkin over that, Ms. Bond,” Mark said, eyes sliding back to the road. Kelli snorted.

“Is it bad I'm kind of hoping I can use the stun gun? I've never used one before.”

“As long as you don't use it on me, we'll be fine.”

Kelli stopped fidgeting with the garter filled with goodies and started to rub her hands together instead. She was nervous and trying to hide it. Mark wanted to tell her it would be okay, but he knew it wouldn't do any good. In her mind, they were going into enemy territory, and he couldn't exactly disagree.

The rest of the car ride was spent in silence. It wasn't unpleasant, just two people caught in their own thoughts. Mark wondered what the woman was thinking about.
He
should have been thinking of the situation at hand, but his mind seemed to be sticking to her.

When he had told her she was beautiful before, it had been partially a lie. What he should have said instead was that she was the
most
beautiful woman he'd ever seen. It wasn't because of the dress or the way her hair curled. It was the smile of modesty and the dose of vulnerability that had made every part of his attention attach to her. Kelli Crane was a strong-willed, fascinating woman. She continued to surprise him with her loyalty and concern for others. Also able to see his internal pain, she'd had the compassion to try to quell it.

And she had.

And then some.

Her speech and her kiss had dislodged an affection for the woman he was finding he would like to keep beyond whatever happened tonight. But did she feel the same? Was it just the heat of the moment moving them down this path? Could they be together once she didn't need protecting anymore? The bodyguard didn't ask any of these questions.

Now wasn't the time.

They had work to do.

The Bowman Foundation was lit up like a Christmas tree. Even at night, it felt like the epitome of hope, bright and promising to those who needed it. None of this surprised Mark as he parked the Jeep and took in the surroundings. Cars filled the parking lot. Two men in suits stood outside the doors, clipboards in their hands and smiles on their faces.

“Hopefully we're on the list,” he said, trying to get her attention away from wherever her mind was focused. It worked. She laughed a little and turned. Unease lined her expression. It was a look he didn't like at all. “Kelli, we don't—”

“Mark, this is possibly the best way to get Dennis to condemn himself,” she interrupted. “So, we do have to do this. I don't want Dennis ever to show up at my house again. I won't live in ongoing fear for Grace's safety.”

She patted her thigh one more time and got out of the truck. Mark took a deep breath and followed.

Aside from the men at the door, he didn't spot anyone else outside the building. Jonathan was doing a good job at hiding.

“My lady,” Mark said. He held his arm out.

“It's been a long time since I walked in these heels, so I truly thank you,” Kelli said, laughing. She linked her arm through his.

Together they walked right up to the lion's den.

Chapter Seventeen

Kelli's head swam.

Pain and confusion. That's all she could wrap her mind around at first. What had happened? Where was she? Why did her head hurt so much?

Darkness invaded the space around her, clinging to her skin like a blanket. Blinking several times didn't help. She still couldn't see a thing. The darkness was thick. Unrelenting. Terrifying.

Where was Mark?

She desperately tried to remember what had happened. The life before this darkness. But she was too panicked to concentrate. The pain in her head didn't help matters, either.

Calm down, Kel
, she thought sternly. That phrase was becoming her mantra, she realized. What she also realized absolutely killed any attempt at calming down.

She couldn't move.

She was tied to a chair.

“Oh, my God,” she gasped. Her wrists were pulled behind her, tied together. She tried to move them but they were anchored to the back of her seat. As she twisted her hips, her stomach dropped. She was tied to the front two chair legs from her shins to her ankles.

Wherever she was, it wasn't good.

“Hello?” she asked timidly—afraid of who would answer, afraid that no one would.

“Kelli!”

If her stomach dropped before, it absolutely crashed through her and the floor at the voice beside her.

“Lynn? Oh, God, is that you, Lynn?”

“Yes! Yes, it's me.”

Kelli almost cried in acute fear. She forgot to breathe for a moment.

“Grace?” she asked, every hope and prayer in her world resting on one name.

“She was still in the apartment with Nikki. She should be okay,” Lynn said hurriedly. “I was the stupid one who left it.”

Relief flooded the mother's heart. She wasn't completely calm, but she was in a better state of mind to work with whatever happened.

“Are you okay?” Kelli asked.

She could hear the other woman trying to move around. “He beat me up pretty good—I think my lip's busted—but I'll live.” Lynn paused, then added, “I think.”

“Who beat you up?”

“I don't know his name—all I was doing was taking out the trash—but he shoved me into the elevator and just attacked.” Lynn's voice wavered. “I shouldn't have left the apartment, but I was trying to be nice since Mark let us stay in his place! I'm sorry, Kel. I should have stayed with Grace.”

The maternal voice of reason within Kelli agreed, but the woman who loved her friend like only family could defended her.

“Nikki will realize something is wrong. She won't leave Grace to come get you. She'll call the cops,” Kelli reasoned. She hoped it was true. She prayed it was true. “Do you know where we are?”

“No, the guy slammed my head into the elevator wall, then nothing but stars. Are you okay? What happened?”

Kelli tried her restraints once more. They didn't move an inch.

“My head hurts a lot,” she admitted, giving up. “Everything's fuzzy. I remember walking into the Bowman Foundation with Mark. We talked to a few people—everyone was mingling before the dinner actually started—” She closed her eyes tightly, trying to remember. “We were looking for Dennis but ran into the publicist guy who said he hadn't shown up yet. Ugh, my head.” A wave of nausea passed over her. She opened her eyes, but the darkness kept her disoriented.

“What else?” Lynn prodded.

“I went to the bathroom and—and it was out of order,” she continued, words coming faster as her memory was catching up. “I was told to use the one up the stairs.” She remembered leaving the second-floor meeting room and walking into the hall. Her heels had been loud as she hurried to the steps. The publicist had said it wasn't too long a trip. She'd see the bathroom door as soon as she reached the top and turned. “I got to the top but there was a man there! He was waiting for me!”

“Who was he? What did he do?”

Kelli shook her head, instantly regretting the action.

“He was wearing a mask—a ski mask.” Then it clicked. “He was wearing all black, too, just like the man who broke into the house...just like the man Mark said he'd seen at the fire.” A sick feeling began to spread throughout her. “I tried to run,” she continued after an involuntary gulp. “But I didn't get far. He threw a punch that I apparently didn't dodge.” Now the pain in her head made sense.

“We both were knocked out, brought together and tied to chairs,” Lynn summarized. “But why? And where do you think we are?”

Kelli didn't answer. Instead, she listened for a moment.

Silence.

“I can't hear anything,” she whispered, “and our mouths aren't bound like the rest of us. And I really can't move—whoever did this took their time—so for them not to gag us, too?”

“Means we're probably not where help could hear us if we screamed,” Lynn answered.

“Right.” Kelli felt panic flare. Her heartbeat thumped much faster than normal.

“The guy who grabbed me wasn't Dennis Crawford,” Lynn whispered. “I didn't recognize him at all.”

Kelli let out a long breath that shook at the end. “That means our plan was never going to work,” she admitted. “All of this was pointless. We don't know what Victor found, we don't know why it's bad and we don't know who put us here. We're not even back to square one.” Kelli's fear bled into the tears brimming in her eyes. “I'm so sorry for getting you mixed up in all of this, Lynn.”

“No. Don't you go all soft on me,” Lynn shot back. Her voice was hard, pointed. “We aren't going to sit here and play the blame game, especially since none of this falls on either of us. Okay?”

Kelli nodded but remembered the woman next to her couldn't see her. “Okay.”

Another bout of silence fell between them. Kelli tried her best to keep her thoughts away from her daughter and the fact that if anything happened to Kelli and Lynn, Grace would end up an orphan. Thoughts of the bodyguard weren't any better. Worry clutched her heart as she wondered where the man was and if he was okay.

You can't lose it now
,
she tried to yell in her head.
Mark will save you. He'll rescue both of you from the dark.
You'll see Grace soon.

But no amount of self-assurance could stop the sheer terror that seized her body at what happened next.

Another voice sounded in the darkness, so close she could feel the breath the words rode on.

“I guess it's time to break this silence and tell you why exactly you're here,” he said. “And why you definitely won't be leaving.”

Light filled the room. Kelli blinked past her fear and focused on the man across from her.

“Oh, my God.”

* * *

T
HE
WOMAN
CHATTING
his ear off was named Maria Something-or-Other. Mark tried to be polite as he scanned the ever-growing group in the large room, but the older woman was starting to grate against his already sensitive nerves. Kelli had taken the easy way out and escaped to the bathroom. He'd tried to follow but had found it trickier than it should have been to detach from the older woman. When Kelli came out she'd be surprised to see the two partygoers chatting right outside the door.

“It's nice to see the younger people start to give back,” Maria said after another large sip of her champagne. “I only wish my son were as charitable. Do you have any kids, Mr. Tranton?”

If she hadn't said his name, Mark probably would have just kept nodding along.

“No, I don't.”

“Good on you,” she said with vigor. “Enjoy as much as you can before your wife and you decide it's the right time. Me? I wish I'd waited a few years. Traveled and such.” Maria kept on with that thought, not giving Mark the room to interject that he wasn't married. Not that he'd tell her that, though. She—along with a few other guests whom they had talked to after first coming in—had made the assumption Kelli was his wife. And that didn't really bother him, he was finding out.

Mark scanned the large room once more, taking in the new and old faces of the fifty or so guests who had arrived already. Round tables with white tablecloths and centerpieces made up of succulents and burlap—something Kelli had pointed out was simple yet beautiful—took up the entire room, leaving only enough space against the far wall for a grand piano and its pianist to perform while everyone mingled. They had wondered why the dinner wasn't served in the chic lounge downstairs. Publicist Hector had answered that question when asking if they liked the more “intimate” setting. The room was indeed smaller than the lounge. It forced people to talk to each other instead of doing what Mark was trying to do. He just wanted to stand in the corner and not talk to a soul who wasn't Kelli while waiting for Dennis finally to show.

Maria was somewhere in a conversation that involved the topic of margaritas on the beach when Mark flipped from nonchalance to outright concern.

“Maria,” he interrupted, making her pause midword, “can you do me a favor and go check on Kelli? She's been in there for a few minutes.”

Whatever offense she might have taken at being interrupted was lost when she realized she was needed. She smiled wide.

“Isn't that sweet,” she almost cooed. “Of course I'll go check up on her.”

The older woman swished her long dress away with her, disappearing into one of the two public bathrooms next to the meeting room opening. Mark kept his eyes glued to the partygoers. The dinner wouldn't start until the CEO made his grand entrance. Apparently he couldn't be bothered to mingle. Dennis was still nowhere to be seen.

If he didn't show, they'd have to come up with a different plan.

“Are you sure she went in there?” Maria asked a moment later. Mark looked down at her, confused.

“She said she was going to the restroom,” he answered, replaying Kelli's words in his head. But he hadn't actually seen her walk in there, had he?

“Well, we would have seen her leave,” Maria reasoned. “So my guess is, she never went inside.”

Mark let out a breath that was filled with bad, bad words and left the wide-eyed woman behind. If Kelli wasn't in the bathroom, and he knew she wasn't in the meeting room, then he had no idea where she would be. Guilt and shame coursed through him as he pulled his cell phone from his jacket pocket. He shouldn't have let her out of his sight—bathroom be damned.

Moving out into the hall, he fully planned on calling Kelli and, if she didn't answer, bringing Jonathan in, but apparently the bodyguard
and
their boss had already called several times.

“Son of a—” he ground out, realizing he'd silenced his phone by accident. Such a small mistake might cost him big. Temporarily ignoring the missed calls from Jonathan, he called Kelli.

Her phone went straight to voice mail.

Mark fisted his hands, already starting to walk down the hallway. There were a few offices on this side, in the opposite direction of the main stairs. He called Jonathan while he quickly looked in each one.

“Jonathan, I need you to—” Mark started as soon as the phone picked up.

“Mark, Lynn was taken,” Jonathan interrupted.

The bodyguard stopped in his tracks.

“What?”

“She apparently decided to take the trash out and didn't come back.”

“Is Grace okay? Nikki?”

“Yeah, Nikki didn't want to chance leaving her alone, so she locked up and called me. I'm over here now.”

Mark's relief made him start to move again.

“How do you know Lynn was taken?”

“There was a bag of trash from your apartment strewn next to the elevator...and in the elevator there was some blood.”

“Did you call the manager to look at the security feed?” Mark knew each floor had cameras positioned at the ends of the halls. The apartment complex prided itself on safety.

“Yeah. Too bad the room where the feeds go was broken into and vandalized,” Jonathan said, clearly unhappy. “I called the cops, Mark. With or without proof of what Dennis has been doing, a woman was kidnapped.”

“No, you did the right thing,” he assured his friend. No sign of Kelli down this side of the hallway. He turned back and hurried for the stairs. “I can't find Kelli,” he admitted, grit in his voice. “She went to the bathroom and never made it inside. I lost her, Jonathan. I had one job and I lost her.”

It was Jonathan's turn to suck in a breath.

“I'm on my way.”

“No, you stay with—” Mark stopped midsentence. Past the open stairs that connected all three floors, walking out from around the corner of a hallway was none other than Dennis Crawford.

Meeting Mark's stare, he stopped.

The bodyguard felt rage boil within him.

Dennis wore a tux, much like Mark, but with one blazing difference—he had a bloody nose. Like someone had busted it trying to fight back.

Before Mark could deal with what his next step would be, Dennis turned tail and ran.

The bodyguard was right behind him.